


the run and go

by gwenstcy



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alcohol, Language, M/M, gwen is alive and well in london, lyric challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwenstcy/pseuds/gwenstcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don't wanna call you in the nighttime. Don't wanna give you all my pieces. Don't wanna hand you all my trouble. Don't wanna give you all my demons. You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away, but tonight I'll need you to stay."</p><p>parksborn fic based off these lyrics from twenty one pilots' "the run and go". part 1 of the lyric challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	the run and go

Harry had to accept it. His disease was taking control, and soon it would consume him. He was going to die an ugly death just like his father, and refused to let anyone see him in such a decrepit state. Of course, Harry had been a wreck for a long time. But he knew that soon it would be so much worse. 

He remembered going to see his father on his deathbed. Harry’s father had completely transformed, into what he called a “goblin”. The Osborn Curse, which Harry had only recently been told about, was passed along to him. 

Though his father ended up living well into his fifties, Harry had much less time, and the drinking definitely wasn’t helping. But hey, if you’re dying anyways, why not speed along the process? That would make it easier for everyone, especially--

A knock on the door interrupted Harry’s dismal thoughts. 

“Coming!” He yelled, shoving the half-packed suitcase under the bed. Harry knew it was before even opening the door, the one person who came to see him, the only person he allowed to come anymore, his only friend. 

“Peter Parker.” Harry grumbled, opening the door to the doe-eyed boy with a concerned smile on his face. 

Peter took one look at Harry’s sullen eyes, bruising, and stained clothes, and quickly wrapped his arms around him, drawing him into a hug so full of warmth, the sick boy stopped shaking for a moment. 

Peter couldn’t help but hug Harry every time he saw him, because each hug could be the last. Every time Peter saw his friend these days, he became increasingly desperate to find him a cure. It didn’t help that Peter’s brilliant biochemist ex-girlfriend Gwen was in London and couldn’t help them, as well as Harry’s complete disregard for his health. It almost seemed like he was purposely working against Peter’s efforts to care for him. 

“I brought us lunch.” Peter said as cheerfully as possible, pulling reluctantly out of the embrace.

“Thanks, but I already ate.” Harry gestured lazily to a box of pizza and empty bottle of liquor. 

Peter gave him the look. The look that Harry so hated, and so loved. The look that told him how much Peter cared for him. The look that showed he cared too much for his own good.

“Harry, we’ve talked about this…” Peter’s voice was so full of sadness, and a slight hint of anger.

Anger was good. Harry could build off of that, make Peter so furious that he would stop trying to help Harry, who could go die alone in peace. Better for Peter to hate Harry than to care for him and have to see him wasting away. 

“I know we have. But you’re not really helping me Peter. There is no difference between salad or pizza if I’m just going to die anyways!” Harry was yelling now. He knew this was the right thing to do, but why did he feel so horrible?

“You know I’m still looking for a cure, but in the meantime you can at least try to keep your health stable-” Peter’s voice was slightly aggravated at this point, but he knew how hard it was for Harry. An argument wasn’t going to help anyone.

“We’ve already found a cure Peter!” Harry bellowed to the sky. He hesitated continuing when he saw the surprised and slightly hopeful look on his friend’s face. But that was all the more reason to go on, soon the pain would be over. “Spider. Man’s. Blood.” Harry gritted his teeth and grunted out the three words that changed everything.

Immediately, Peter’s face contorted, and Harry’s heart broke. “Harry, I thought we agreed, that could be worse...you could become a mutant lizard or something-”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re lying.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed together and he opened his mouth in indignation, but Harry beat him to it. “Yeah, I figured it all out. You’re ready for me to die. Then you can move on with your life, let go of your needy childhood friend. Hey! Maybe you can even get a job at Oscorp.” Harry knew absolutely none of this was true, and it was hard to shout insulting lies at his best friend...but the alcohol helped.

“You know damn well that none of that is true! All I’ve done is care for you! I’ve worked tirelessly to find you a cure that won’t turn you into an evil creature and cause you more pain you could possibly even imagine! I haven’t been eating, or sleeping. I got fired from my job because you have only been my only priority. I’m behind on my rent and if I miss next month’s deadline, guess what? Aunt May and I lose our home! But I don’t even care about any of that, all I care, excuse me, cared about was you Harry. But you obviously don’t care about anyone.” Peter was out of breath.

He and Harry stared at each other for a moment before Harry managed to choked out “Leave then.” 

As soon as the door slammed, Harry crumpled to the floor, with his legs curled up against his chest. He thought he would never stop crying. 

Harry woke up, filthy and wet from a mixture of tears and sweat. He immediately ran to the bathroom, but couldn’t make it all the way before he threw up two bottles of liquor all over the floor. Oh well, he was leaving anyways.

Peter didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep. He kept replaying him and Harry’s argument over and over again in his head, thinking about how much of an asshole he was, how things could have gone differently, and how much he loved Harry. Peter restrained himself from going to see him long enough, now it was morning, and Peter could go apologize.

Harry packed his suitcase and headed to the airport, trying decide where to fly. He needed somewhere private and secluded, like an island, and wanted to leave as soon as possible. 

Peter knocked on Harry’s door. Nothing. It’s not like he expected him to answer, but it was worth a try. 

“Harry? I know you’re angry with me but please let me inside. I didn’t mean what I said, I still care about you. I care so much about you that it hurts and I- please Harry, I want to say this to your face…” Peter sighed. 

After a minute of silence, Peter had to resort to Plan B: Breaking in. Well, it wasn’t really breaking in, he just used the spare key Harry had given him, but breaking in just sounded cooler. He quickly opened the door and stepped into the once-white foyer, which was now a stained mess of junk food, alcohol, and, Peter sniffed the air, vomit? His mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, as it always did when he was unsure of Harry’s whereabouts. He raced into the bedroom, careful not to slip on any of the mess of substances that were spread across the floor. It was empty. The closet had been stripped and a mess of clothes lay around the room. Peter was panicking, but he had to think fast. He sprinted towards Harry computer which thankfully, was still on, glowing with bright images from a travel website. 

“Dear Mr. Osborn, thank you for confirming your stay at the Caribbean’s finest island resort.” Peter read out loud, his brain working overtime.

He quickly tried to call Harry, but as suspected, it went straight to voicemail. He should’ve known Harry would do something like this, and of course, it was all Peter’s fault. 

Soon, Harry reached his tropical destination. What a nice place to die. He had a private suite sectioned off from the rest of the hotel, which offered exquisite views of the beach. He walked around the empty rooms, but soon became restless. It was all he could do not to think of Peter. He crawled into bed, and hoped he wouldn’t wake up. 

After who knows how long of lying in bed and awaiting death, the last thing Harry wanted to hear was footsteps. He figured it was housekeeping, and yelled “Don’t come in! I’m, uh, naked! No clothes! You do not want to look at this trust me!” Harry’s voice became more desperate and the footsteps grew louder.

In an instant, the door was thrown open, and a figure rushed into Harry’s room. He couldn’t see for a moment because of the sunlight, but as his eyes adjusted, Harry let out a yelp of relief. The boy who meant everything to him, who sacrificed all he had, who couldn’t be driven away no matter what Harry did, was standing in front of him. The sun was above Peter’s head like a halo, and it all made sense. Harry was dead, and Peter, obviously, was his guardian angel.

“I love heaven.” Harry smiled and reached up, extending his fingers to the ethereal being. 

The angel’s face was one of grave concern. It made Harry sad. 

“Harry, are you ok?” Peter put his hand on his friend’s forehead, and threw the covers off the bed.

“Aw, now I’m cold. Can you warm me up?” Harry laughed and grinned mischievously at the angel.

Peter was already urgently taking off the boy’s shirt, but he looked scared, and not in the mood to make out with Harry. He started examining Harry’s bruises, and they all looked under control. He breathed a sigh of relief and started to cry.

“Wait a minute...if I’m in heaven, shouldn’t I be physically restored? That’s a thing right?” Harry asked, but Peter couldn’t even hear him. Angels don’t normally break down, or lose their halos when they move away from the window...Harry was alive! He was alive. Which meant…

“Peter! It’s you! You’re really here!” Harry’s smile covered his entire face, but his eyes were full of guilt. 

Harry immediately pulled the boy to him, burying his face in Peter’s shoulder, with a force that caused them to flop down onto the bed, which made Harry’s bruises hurt like hell, but he didn’t care. Both of the boys were crying now, wrapped around each other and holding on for dear life. Harry had made his best effort never to cry in front of his friend, and Peter had done the same, until now. 

All the things left unsaid between them for so long flowed out through the racking sobs and tight embrace.  
Finally, after a few minutes, the rapid rush of tears became a light, silent waterfall and they were ready to talk. Despite how often Peter and Harry saw each other, they never directly spoke about Harry’s death, or their feelings. This conversation was a long time coming.

“Harry...I am so, so sorry, I-” Peter started, but Harry cut him off.

“What? Peter, I was a monster. I thought I was doing it for your own good but-”

“My own good? My own good is worried sick and knowing you hate me?” 

“Hate you? I could never hate you. Quite the opposite really. Our fight...I made all that stuff up.” Peter opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Harry continued. “Just let me explain. Hm. This is harder than I thought. I thought I was protecting you. You didn’t have to see what my dad looked like when he died Pete, and I’m going to be just like that, a helpless creature who will die a painful, ugly death. I thought it would be easier if I left with you angry at me, rather than give you all my pieces and my troubles, my demons.” Harry knew the explanation was weak, but that’s because that wasn’t really it. He just had to push people away when he needed them the most, and he cared for Peter too much to put him through this.

After a moment of silence, he looked at Peter’s beautiful, confused face and breathed out. “I can’t believe you came back.” He couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Of course I came back. I will always come back. No matter how much you try and push me away I won’t budge. I care too much about you.” He said it sternly, but sweetly, wanting Harry to believe it.

“But why do you care about me? It’s not like I’ve done anything for you.” Harry mumbled and looked down, but Peter held up his chin.

“So it wasn’t you who payed for my next year of rent yesterday, hm?” Peter grinned. Harry shook his head.

“But that’s because I’m the reason you lost it in the first place. I made you spend so much time with me that you lost your job and your house…” Harry trailed off when Peter put a finger on his lips.

“You never forced me to spend time with you, Harry. Most of the time I came on my own accord, because I care about you, and I need you to believe it. I will keep saying it until you can get that through your head.” When Harry still looked doubtful, Peter sighed and launched into a story.

“Do you remember when I was eight years old? You were ten, and always looked after me. You got into countless fights for me, helped me make new friends before you left, and kept me warm in the winter.” Harry smiled a little, but it still didn’t reach his eyes.  
“I got the flu once. It was so horrible I had to be hospitalized. Granted, it was only for a night, but you stayed with me in that tiny hospital bed. And before I was hospitalized, I was home for a week and you skipped school every day and brought me soup and video games. You were suspended and grounded, but you didn’t care, because I was ok.” Harry finally looked up at Peter.

“But you weren’t going to die, and I didn’t risk everything.” Harry wanted to believe Peter, but it was difficult to forgive himself.

“That’s not my point. But you did risk everything, there just isn’t as much at risk for a child. But I would not want to have suffered your father’s wrath.” Harry flinched, remembering the torture. “But Harry, my point is, we’re best friends. We look after each other.”

“Friends.” Harry muttered, and he knew he shouldn’t, but he wished they could be more. 

Peter looked at Harry’s expression, and it was one he didn’t understand. It was almost...desire. Peter’s eyes trailed down to his friend’s bare chest and his heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before, he regularly gave Harry check ups, but he normally quickly examined him, both their faces a deep shade of red. Peter looked up and got lost in the sea of green that was Harry’s eyes, and found that they were full of longing. He decided to let go of the logical part of his brain telling him friendship was the best option. He had let that dictate how he felt for far too long. Peter bent down and softly brushed his lips against the green bruise on Harry’s chest and lingered there for a moment until he heard Harry choke.

He looked up at Harry’s glassy eyes with fear. Maybe he was wrong, acting on his own emotions, assuming Harry felt the same. Peter was horrified by his decision, but when Harry spoke, it was with relief.

“You don’t...you don’t find me disgusting?” Harry whispered.

“Never. I can’t believe you thought that.” Peter was angry with himself for letting his friend believe that.

“It’s just that whenever you would check my bruises, you did it so quickly, and you looked so embarrassed. We just never talked about it.” Harry tried to keep his rising hope out of his voice.

“That was only because I didn’t trust myself around you when you weren’t fully clothed.” Peter was brushing profusely. 

“What does that mean?” Harry couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face.

Peter couldn’t talk anymore. He slowly planted kisses all across Harry’s bruises, ending with the one on his neck. Harry turned his head towards Peter and with one significant look, they both melted into each other in the best kiss of their lives.

"Stay." Harry muttered, and Peter nodded. He'd stay tonight, he'd stay tonight, he'd stay forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic, it was really fun and quick to write. Parksborn is such a fun and emotional pair and I will definitely be writing more soon. I love feedback, so please tell me your thoughts, and thank you for reading!


End file.
